


信じています

by souzaki (junqhan)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:39:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5821684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junqhan/pseuds/souzaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Even when everything seems uncertain for you,” Moniwa whispers softly, “just remember that I’ve always got your back. And that’s the only thing you need to believe to keep moving forward, Kenji.”</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>(set in pre-match of miyagi prefecture representative playoff quarterfinal. may contain spoiler for un-aired episode!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	信じています

**Author's Note:**

> hello i'm a newbie trash of haikyuu pls take a good care of me (this fic is VERY self-indulgent i'm so sorry)

Futakuchi is restless.

The message Aone sent him thirty minutes ago still displayed on his phone screen. _Get a rest before tomorrow match_ or something along the line, he can’t really say. There are so many things whirling on his head right now; the what ifs that always have a way to make him stay awake even after a long and tiring day of practice. The club atmosphere feels so much different without the third years around, even though Kamasaki, Sasaya, and Moniwa still pay some times to visit the club and help them practicing what they’re still lacking.

They got a disappointing result on Inter High and Futakuchi swore to Moniwa that he would revenge their lost in Spring High prelim, and Moniwa nodded at him with tears brimming on his eyes. Moniwa trusted him, thus he made Futakuchi hold the captain position for their new formation of the team.

The question is, is Futakuchi really good enough to lead the team? Sure, his friends are there for him—Aone, Obara, and Sakunami are great helps to balance the team with their current formation. But most of the time they will rely on Futakuchi only, because he’s the captain, and that’s what a captain does. Futakuchi tries to be a dependable person, but can he, when he still doubts himself a lot?

A sharp pain jabs into Futakuchi’s chest as the memory of their lost to Karasuno passes his mind. It was the last match for the third years, it was the match where the seniors put their all, yet they still couldn’t get a happy result. It was not entirely Datekou’s fault—Karasuno was a strong team and the Iron Wall wasn’t solid enough to stop the attack—but Futakuchi feels half of it was _his_ fault. Mourn of lost wasn’t as bad as the guilt of disappointing Moniwa, their captain, someone he respects more than anyone, someone who was full of hope and optimism. And Futakuchi hates himself that Moniwa has to quit the team before he could repay the match with a victory.

He can’t really say why he did blame himself for it, as Moniwa said it wasn’t anyone’s fault, it’s a game and it’s just normal to have a team who wins and a team who loses. Futakuchi knew Moniwa tried to look strong in front of everyone—and he did that very well. They still cried; even Sasaya—who said to be the strongest among them—and Futakuchi felt hurt, hurt, _hurt_. He couldn’t forget the look on Moniwa’s eyes after the evaluation; a glint of hope that Datekou would do better after he left the team to Futakuchi’s shoulder.

Moniwa was a great captain, and Futakuchi would never reach half of his level, not ever.

Futakuchi bites his lower lip when the pain morsels larger part of his body, gnawing on his skin and muscles. He wants to win, he wants to stay on the court longer with his teammates, but it really is not easy when the waves of guiltiness engulf him whole. He’s not good enough as a captain. He can’t give them supportive advices like Moniwa used to do before matches. He’s a failure—he realizes that, and he doesn’t want his team to feel more depressed as the result of his incapability as a team leader.

He holds his phone, tight, the first tear rolls down fast to his chin. Futakuchi gives up—he’s tired, he’ll never be good enough and he loves his teammates so much he doesn’t want them to feel the despair he felt back then. He starts sobbing when the third tear rolls down, and he cries to himself. He doesn’t know what makes him so desperate: maybe it’s the pressure, or the crazy portion of practice, or it’s just himself. Futakuchi is never satisfied with whatever he did, does, and will do, and there’s no Moniwa Kaname who will slap the thought off of him.

The name resounds on Futakuchi’s head like a ricochet. He misses Moniwa, he misses the days where tiredness is nothing compared with his senpai’s bright laughter as he watches Kamasaki and Sasaya practicing read block and Sasaya accidentally hits Kamasaki’s face with the ball. He misses the days where he can’t lie about the simplest thing because Moniwa can read it on his face right away. He misses the day where he silently tells himself that he has saved a special spot deep down his heart for the elder boy. He misses the comfort and ease Moniwa offers to the whole team, holding them in one piece together under his wing. He misses the way Moniwa makes him feel, _he misses him_ , Futakuchi misses him so much.

And as if the gods hear him, his phone rings and Moniwa’s name pops up on the screen. Futakuchi chokes—he has no time to hide his sobs by now and at the same time he doesn’t want to waste the occasion to hear Moniwa’s voice again.

He answers the call.

_“Futakuchi?”_ Moniwa sounds really worried, Futakuchi wonders why. _“Aone and the others tried reaching for you but you gave no answer. Is everything okay?”_

_No, no, nothing is okay. I’m desperate, I’m afraid, I need you here but I can’t do anything about it._

“I’m okay, Moniwa-senpai,” Futakuchi tries hard not to choke on his words, swallowing the invisible lump on his throat. “I set my phone on vibrate so I didn’t hear when it rang. I’ll tell them there’s nothing to worry about.”

_“I don’t believe you,”_ Moniwa cuts in sharply. _“I know you long enough to know when you’re lying to me, even when I can’t see your face. Your voice is lying, Futakuchi.”_

“You know me that deep?” Futakuchi forces out a laugh. “But it’s really okay, Moniwa-senpai. Maybe I’m just too nervous about tomorrow.”

_“You,”_ Moniwa takes a deep breath, _“are one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. You’re definitely not someone who would make his friends worry because of a match. Come on, Futakuchi. Just spit it out. I’m not going to hang up if you don’t tell me.”_

Moniwa is persistent as usual. Futakuchi secretly likes the attention, despite the uncomfortable jabs on his chest right now.

“I think… you made a mistake.”

_“Me?”_ Futakuchi can picture Moniwa raises one of his eyebrows. _“What mistake did I make? What do you mean?”_

“To choose me as captain for the team, I think you’ve made a mistake, senpai.”

_“Oh,”_ Moniwa says, sighing. Futakuchi imagines he’s leaning to the wall, one hand holding the phone and another hand shoved inside the pocket of his jeans. _“Futakuchi, you know how much the team means to me, don’t you? Whatever decision I made when I was in the team, was for you all to get better. I chose you as captain because I trusted you, because I knew you’d take care of the team better than I did. That’s why—”_

“That’s why it’s a mistake!” Futakuchi cries out, the frustration he’s piled up reaching the point where he can’t press it down anymore. Moniwa doesn’t get the point, and he won’t if Futakuchi didn’t say it first.

“Because you kept assuming good things about me, because you trusted me, that decision was a total mistake! I’m not as good as you thought, and I’ll never be able to lead the team as you did…” Futakuchi hugs his own body, voice and hands trembling and he feels really, really cold. He wants Moniwa to be here, to soothe his desperation, to do just nothing but stay because the only thing Futakuchi needs right now is him. He cries uncontrollably into the phone, knowing Moniwa is still there but he can’t find his voice. Both of them stay silent for a while, until Futakuchi’s sob slowly dies down.

_“Kenji,”_ Moniwa calls him gently. _“Kenji, listen to me. I know you may feel burdened by the captain position on the team, and I get that. I’m sorry. I should’ve talked to you thoroughly before I announced my decision, but again, as I told you before, whatever decision I made was for the team to get better. You’re a great player, you have great sense of responsibility and that’s why I chose you to take care of the team.”_

Futakuchi doesn’t answer, he knows Moniwa hasn’t done yet.

_“You’re not alone, Kenji. I’m here, and I’ll be more than happy to help you. I swear to god, you don’t have to worry about anything.”_

Futakuchi blinks—was that real? Was Moniwa aware with the words he had said just now?

“But-” Futakuchi bites his lip again, trying to make his lips stop trembling. “But you’re not _here_ , so what’s the point?”

Moniwa sighs at the other end of the line. _“Close your eyes. Now, you’ll just listen to what I say. Understand?”_

Futakuchi nods, though Moniwa can’t see him. He gulps again; the pain is still there.  He closes his eyes tightly only to find Moniwa smiling at him. The former captain reaches out his arm, touching Futakuchi jaw gently. It’s not real, and it’s stupid to imagine such a thing from Moniwa, but Futakuchi can feel his body shivers at the invisible touch. Is Moniwa’s impact really this big? Futakuchi can say yes, judging from how the thought of Moniwa makes his mind and body react.

Moniwa goes on, telling him soothing words, telling him how precious Futakuchi is for the team when Moniwa was there and for the current generation. How Moniwa wants to be _here_ , beside him, even though Moniwa has never left Futakuchi alone. How he wants to hug him tight, bury Futakuchi’s face on his shoulder, telling him that  _it’s okay to feel not okay, it’s okay to cry_. Futakuchi is never been a good liar, and it’s not only because Moniwa is really _great_ at sensing people’s lie, it’s also because Futakuchi doesn’t think he needs to pretend in front of the captain.

 

So, there he is, clutching on the phone with fingers trembling, tears flowing down his eyes like a waterfall. It’s painfully _real_ ; the thought of being in the former setter’s arms, the thought of breathing on his scent as Moniwa holds him close, the thought of being protected, being _loved_.

_“I wish I could do more than an empty talk, but trust me, this is the best attempt I could afford.”_

Futakuchi almost chokes on his own tears when he tries to reply, “This is more than enough, senpai.”

_“The matches are not going to be easy both for you and for the team. But even when everything seems uncertain for you,”_ Moniwa whispers softly, _“just remember that I’ve always got your back. And that’s the only thing you need to believe to keep moving forward, Kenji.”_

Futakuchi’s heart clenches, aching. “Yes, senpai.”

_“Who are you playing tomorrow?”_

“Aoba Johsai.”

_“Ah, that team is strong. Be careful, and don’t panic. You have a solid team and it would be enough to stop them.”_

Futakuchi isn’t sure it’s true, but he just gulps and nods. “Yeah, they will be having a hard time tomorrow.”

_“That’s the spirit,”_ Moniwa laughs. _“I believe in you, captain.”_

 

 

_Captain._

 

Sure, he can do it.

 

 

_“Go! Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go! Datekou!”_

Futakuchi takes a deep breath, staring back and forth at the cheering crowd and his teammates. The match will be starting in about ten minutes, and now both teams are warming up and testing the court.

“We’re going to be okay,” Obara pats his shoulder from behind. “We’re doing this together. And we believe in you, captain.”

Futakuchi blinks, “Yeah?”

“We believe in you,” Obara repeats, “that we can do this together, as a team. So you don’t have to worry about anything aside of the match.”

Futakuchi grins, nodding his head at his teammate. Aone and the others are standing around him, and Futakuchi never felt this strong. “Yeah, I believe in you guys too. Let’s do this, and whatever result we get, we will go home with our heads high.”

His teammates nod, and Futakuchi smiles at them.

 

 

_“Datekou, FIGHT!”_


End file.
